


Bad luck Bond

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:56:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4851890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when James regrets not looking at the road. Especially if it ends with his Quartermaster yelling in his ear and him ending up on pretty much everyone's black list. He really didn't mean to run over that cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad luck Bond

**Author's Note:**

> This was one idea that kept popping into my mind just as I fell asleep, but couldn't remember when I woke up. Then one day, while trying to get my cat's claws out of my leg, it came to me.
> 
> Please forgive any and all mistakes and enjoy <3

Despite having a very soft spot and a very special place for him in his heart, Q had managed to get on James’ nerves. The Quartermaster did look like that type of quiet man who loved animals, but James never thought he would go ballistics over him running over a bloody cat. At first, James thought it was because the brand new Aston Martin was lightly scratched, but when Q started to scream in his ear about how heartless he was and about needing glasses because the bloody creature was so fat, it was nay impossible not to see it from at least two streets away, it became clear.

 

And it wasn’t as if James had wanted to kill the poor thing. It just happened. One second, he was looking at the road, almost respecting the traffic laws while Q was going on about how the newly finished mission had to be a miracle because James was unscratched and was coming back to MI6 with all of his equipment intact and the next second WHAM! Deceased animal behind his car and a Quartermaster having a nervous breakdown in his ear.

 

James actually ended up throwing his earwig out the window when he saw that the man wasn’t even stopping to breathe, let alone allow him to sneak in an apology. He had assumed - and hoped; heck, even prayed - that Q would have calmed down by the time he got to HQ. But no, the Quartermaster was still mad. Even more so because of the destroyed earwig.

 

“I have never, in my entire life, been forced to interact with such a careless, crude, heartless and inconsiderate prick.” His voice was cold enough to freeze a bloody polar bear at this point.

 

Heaven forbid Q’s first words out of his mouth should be ‘welcome back agent’ or 'you did a great job out in the field, agent’ and the unicorn among greetings that James secretly craved for 'you did such a good job that I am going to take my clothes off and let you have your way with me until the world ends and beyond’. Okay, the last one he was never ever going to hear, especially after this, but James could still hope.

 

“Would it have killed you if you kept your eyes off of women for those bloody fifteen minutes it took you to get from the airport to here?” He might have sniffled, but it was more likely he got a big gulp of air so he could continue scolding him for something the agent did not consider to be his fault in the first place. “And as if the fact that you murdered the poor cat wasn’t enough, you had to go for my earwig as well. Never in my entire life, do you hear me?”

 

It was here that James’ eye started to twitch. After all the bloody hardships he went through to bring both himself and his gear back in once piece, and the young man was still in a foul mood. Actually, he was in the foulest of moods that James had ever seen him and all because of a bloody creature - no pun intended.

 

“Well you haven’t lived bloody long so I guess that means nothing to me,” James snapped and Q actually took a step back, green eyes wide. “Now take the rest of your _precious_ equipment and let me sign for it because I have more important things to do than listen to a child moan about a stray cat.”

 

He all but threw the little box at Q and didn’t even bother to actually wait to see him sign before storming out of Q branch, aware that pretty much everyone present there wanted his head. And they could all go to hell as far as he was concerned if they still insisted to side with their overlord and allow him to harass a tired operative for something that might have been only partially his fault.

 

After he was done officially presenting the outcome of the mission to M, James waltzed out of the room in a somewhat better mood. The man had almost congratulated him for what he did and Tanner did not waste three hours of his life talking about what it meant for someone to be on a budget and how horrible it was to have to listen to the Prime Minister chew them out whenever they went over said budget - James had been so tempted to ask if it was as boring what Tanner was doing, but Eve’s glare helped him keep his mouth shut.

 

When he walked out, he saw Q coming his way and he smiled and winked at him, forgetting for a moment that the boffin currently considered persona non grata. But he remembered, all right. He remembered the instant those green eyes he sometimes thought of fixated on him with so much wrath and hatred that it actually stung his heart.

 

“Quartermaster, are we still indisposed?” James asked carefully, his own harsh words already forgotten.

 

But Q clearly hadn’t. Nor had he forgotten or forgave what James had did and he snarled at him, slamming the door shut as hard as he could behind him, making those facts quite clear to the agent.

 

And James was instantly angry again. Not at Q, not at himself, but the cat that had crossed his path and landed him in hot water with the Quartermaster. Okay, so maybe he was also a tiny bit upset with Q as well for holding on to a meaningless grudge over something trivial for so long.

 

It was beyond clear now that Q was a cat person and maybe, just maybe, James would go and buy him a stuffed animal as an apology to him when his cards started working again - because something told him that if he tried to purchase anything with those right then, he would be laughed out of any store after witnessing them being cut in half. Or maybe not. If Q actually blocked his cards over this, he should be the one apologizing for acting so immaturely.

 

He rounded the corner and almost smacked into a plant, too busy fuming to pay attention to anything around him. Who put a pot in the middle of the bloody hallway? Did MI6, an agency filled to the brim with deadly assassins and boffins that could cause a financial collapse by simply pressing a button, really need to look pretty? Who thought of that? Who wasted Tanner’s precious budget on something like potted plants which are then placed where agents could trip over them?

 

“Did you hear what 007 did?” James put the plant down and hid behind it when he heard that question, recognizing the voice as belonging to one of the minions that Q tended to have by his side when he ran missions that had him as the main agent.

 

“Oh yes, simply horrible of him.” The second speaker was clearly R and why did everyone hate him so much for an accident that might not have happened if Q hadn’t gasped in his ear in a way that made James think of all the ways he could get the young man to do that again? “Q loved that cat.”

 

No. No, he was not hearing this. He refused to acknowledge what that meant. He didn’t even know Q had a cat - granted, Q was very careful what he revealed about his private life, so James didn’t know a lot about the man. He had planned on using the returning of the equipment without a scratch as a reason to invite Q out somewhere to find out more about him and maybe even convince him that his bed was the best when it came to a good rest and a mind blowing night.

 

“I don’t know how the agent managed to miss the giant cat emoticon that Q programmed to appear on every GPS connected to the MI6 whenever James was out prowling the street of London,” the boffin whose name and designated letter slipped James’ mind, confusing him to no end.

 

“There is a metaphor in 007 killing something that shared his first name.” And thank you R for the explanation and stab to the heart. What was next? Finding out the animal was a gift from Major Boothroyd just like Q’s precious scrabble mug? If James’ luck continued to be bad, that wouldn’t really surprise him.

 

“I guess the agent is also uninvited from Q’s birthday party,” R continued to add more nails to that coffin with her words just as she passed his hiding place, James struggling not to turn around and smash his head against the wall until he passed out.

 

He hadn’t forgotten about Q’s birthday, but it simply slipped out of his mind today because of how annoyed the other had managed to get him. He had actually bought a nice little gift for him prior to leaving for his mission - he had long resigned to the idea that one day he really will not return alive from one, so if there was anything important that took place while he was away or just after he returned, he planned ahead - which he was sure Q would have liked under normal circumstances.

 

But now, after killing his cat because he was daydreaming about sleeping with Q, that gift wasn’t enough. He needed to buy him something bigger, better, and which was also magical and brought dead cats back. But since that didn’t exist, James’ mind came up with the idea of visiting a shelter and getting Q a new fur ball.

 

He didn’t immediately head home after coming up with that plan. Instead, he spent the rest of the day trying to get Q to talk to him, but all he managed to do was get himself banned from Q Branch until M ordered otherwise, his presence was needed there to save them or he was to be equipped for a mission.

 

Waiting for Q under the cover of darkness in the garage also turned out to be a horrible idea mostly because of two things. One: Q didn’t own a car, so he went home via subway or MI6 issued car that picked him up right from the front door - and he forgot that because he was obsessing over getting the words right to apologize - and two: all MI6 employees knew self-defence which ended with him on his back every time he accidentally spooked someone as well as Tasers which also ended sending tens of hundreds of volts through his body once he was down.

 

But at least he knew where Q lived, having personally driven a very tired and exhausted Quartermaster home on numerous occasions. And he expected the door not to open, as he did the messages he got on the phone which informed him that his presence was unwanted and that he’d best leave before Q booted up the security system.

 

“I’ll sit here and annoy you and your neighbours until you open the door, Q.” James announced as loudly as he could. “And you know security systems don’t mean anything to me and don’t say that you’ll shoot me because we both know that you won’t.” He waited for a few moments in complete silence and just as he was about to start singing the first thing that entered his mind, the door opened.

 

Q looked horrible. Hair sticking out in all the directions even more so than usual, eyes puffy, nose red, lips still quivering and James managed to find a way to feel even more awful when he noticed the still wet cheeks.

 

“What do you want? I am all out of animals for you to kill,” he hiccupped, trying to clear his throat.

 

Why couldn’t have the cat be ran over by another agent? So James could easily wrap his arms around Q and rub away all the sadness from him without being murdered? Or not ran over at all so James could have enjoyed Q’s company over that nice dinner he had planned? Really, was he asking the faiths for too much when he wanted a simple week where absolutely nothing went tits up?

 

“I really didn’t mean to–”

 

“Of course you didn’t. I know you didn’t, Bond.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, somehow managing to make it look even wilder than before. “But I am still upset over this, especially since I asked you to be careful and to check your GPS. I hope whatever woman you were ogling slapped you if you asked for her number.”

 

James snorted and took a step closer to Q, only to immediately freeze when he saw the man pull back and getting ready to slam the door in his face. Okay, clearly Q had been serious with the last part. Which was bad because the man rarely wished harm on anyone. Then again, James had murdered his cat, so it was understandable.

 

How was he going to fix this one? Eve had gone for his face with the Taser and then tried to slam the car’s door over his fingers when he asked her if she could drop him off at Q’s apartment since his car was in the repair shop. So it was quite clear that she wasn’t going to help him. R probably had him on her blacklist as well and the same could be said about the rest of MI6. He was on his own in this and he had no idea what to do.

 

“There wasn’t any woman to slap me, but rest assured that I have taken more than my share of abuse from our colleagues.” He pulled his slightly bloody shirt up to show Q the marks the Tasers left behind, hoping to offer him a bit of comfort. “I may have acted as a creeper without realizing it, but I am pleased to say that snatching MI6 employees is not an easy task.”

 

He didn’t expect Q to drag him in his apartment, pushing the shirt even more over his head and starting to poke his skin. “And I assume that you didn’t think to visit medical?” James slowly shook his head and allowed Q to guide him deeper in his apartment, vision still restricted by his shirt. “Just take a seat somewhere, take your shirt off and I’ll see what we can do about these wounds of yours.”

 

They marks left behind didn’t really bother James and everyone had been careful to avoid any dangerous areas, but he wasn’t about to kick himself out of Q’s apartment. This was the first time he’d been invited in – dragged in, but he counted it as an invitation –and he was curious to see how Q lived and if he could find a clue that might help him get back in his good graces.

 

The apartment was cosy; not too big, not suffocatingly small, but just right. It wasn’t anything like James had pictured it, that being nothing more a giant room with a simple bed in the middle, all sorts of machines, servers and computers strewn about it. He had even managed to make place for a small bathroom and kitchen in that imaginary apartment, but now he realized how wrong he was.

 

Q had a home, not a lair. Q had something that James hadn’t had ever since he left Skyfall after his parents were murdered. He only had cold apartments, places where he spent time in-between missions. They always smelled of disinfectant or outright alcohol mixed with rotten takeout food.

 

But this place felt warm, inviting and smelled like freshly cooked food and brewed tea. There were personal items strewn about it, even framed pictures with people that had to either be Q’s friends or his family. You weren’t going to find that in James’ apartment. The few pictures he had, he kept hidden in a metal box locked away in a bank’s vault.

 

His nature as a secret agents pushed him to explore, but the instant he set his stained shirt down and moved, he ended up stepping on something that let out a loud squeak. He cringed when Q came out of the bathroom, deep frown on his face as he glared at him and pushed a first aid kit in his hand.

 

“I said to sit down, agent. Not poke your nose around my apartment as if I was one of your usual targets.” He picked up the little mouse toy, brushing in softly before putting it in a large box by the door. “Then again, you do have to inspect the new environment you’re in, so I do not fault you for acting on instinct.”

 

The implication that he was acting like a giant cat was obvious and if they were in a different situation, James would have asked Q if he wanted to show him what needed to be done to have him purr in his lap or rub up against him.

 

After turning on all the lights in the room, Q took a seat next to him on the very comfortable sofa that wouldn’t give him any sharp pains in the back if James ever slept on it. “This will be the first time I’m attempting to treat Taser wounds, so bear with me and hold the tablet with its screen facing me.”

 

James did as he was told and answered all of Q’s questions as best as he could. He’d only really been shocked five times – Was that enough to get his brain to respond properly when he was told to do something, Q wondered out loud – and he didn’t think the cumulative time of that exceeded fifteen seconds. No, he didn’t take care when he pulled the wires out. He simply ripped them from his chest and got back on his feet.

 

Q glared at him for a moment, but by this point James had accepted the fact that those green eyes might forever be filled with contempt and disappointment when trained on him. “Next time, try to remove them like a normal human being. No wonder you’re bleeding; you managed to rip your skin and I am frankly surprised that chunks of your meat aren’t missing.”

 

James wanted to comment that he wasn’t that reckless, but he wasn’t sure he could do that with a straight face. In all honesty, it was a miracle that he hadn’t done more damage and they both knew it. So he just sat in silence while Q tried his best to stick band aids on him, cussing whenever he ruined one because they stuck to his fingers instead of James’ chest.

 

And he wasn’t going to lie to himself and pretend that he didn’t like it when Q pressed his warm and soft hands against his bare chest, pink tongue slightly sticking out as he fully concentrated at the task at hand. It was also funny because he had seen Q manage to glue something as small as a grain of rice with the utmost precision against something, his hands steady enough to handle nitroglycerin - the thing might have had that - while now, when he was trying to put something on him, his hands where shaky and he couldn’t quite calculate where to place it.

 

Eventually Q grew frustrated to the point where he threw his hands in the air and showed the band aids in James’ chest, rubbing his face. “I trust that you can at least do this without hurting yourself even more.”

 

James grabbed his hand when he tried to move away, squeezing it lightly. “Q, I–”

 

“I won’t kill you during a mission or let you die, if you’re afraid of that, agent. I am not petty and I understand that you running over and killing my beloved James,” the agent’s heart skipped a beat and his stomach did a flip when those two words came out of Q’s mouth, although it was clear that he was referring to his cat and wasn’t quite aware that he had said them, “was nothing more than an accident. Now let go of my hand so I can go to bed. My eyes are actually hurting from how tired I am.”

 

“Yes, of course. I apologize for keeping up this long, Quartermaster,” James muttered, letting go of Q’s hands only to adjust his glasses, just managing to hold himself from running his hands through the wild hair. “I was out of line when you were clearly in a very fragile state. I wish I could take my words back.”

 

“Well, compared to you, I really am a child.” He sketched a little smile, the room appearing to brighten up to James.

 

“If my heart won’t give out, will I get to see you when you turn the legal age to drink alcohol?”

 

Q thought for a moment before slowly nodding.

 

***

 

By some miracle, it only took James a single day to convince R that he wasn’t evil incarnate and that he didn’t deserve to get evicted, his apartment sold while not being MIA, eviscerated or get his cards cancelled. Her glare hadn’t softened, but at least she was talking to him and acknowledged his existence, which couldn’t be said for the rest of Q branch.

 

She even agreed to show him a picture of the James he killed and, after almost half an hour of furiously sliding on her phone, she seemed to have found the right one. And James realized just how vengeful and observant she was because she had picked one that made his heart and mind be gnawed at by envy.

 

It was an older picture, back from when Q had just been promoted to Quartermaster - James knew that because he had thicker frames back then and he was also slightly skinnier. He had just finished taking a shower - the caption clearly confirming that since it said that ‘this James can’t stand me taking a shower without him’ - and he had what was probably the smallest towel that was still accepted by society as not a hand towel wrapped around his middle, a little yellow ball of fur sitting on his shoulder and pushing his head against Q’s, pushing his glasses off.

 

“Aw, so sorry about that, 007,” R said with obvious satisfaction in her voice. “You really can’t see little James in that picture. Wait; let me show you the one with him sleeping on Q’s chest.”

 

He wasn’t all that surprised when the next picture she showed in his face was of Q’s bare chest, the cat sprawled on it. He also saw that Q had preferred wearing a pair of dark green boxer briefs that night and he was so tempted to pocket R’s phone so he could steal all of the pictures he had of Q.

 

She finally too pity on him and showed him a simple picture of just the cat, bigger and fatter now, lounging on a keyboard, blue eyes staring directly at the camera in a bored manner. She also guessed James’ curiosity as to how exactly Q ended up with the cat and explained that it simply followed him home three days after the new M had officially been announced.

 

It was understandable why Q had named the yellow stray with blue eyes that a desire to stay on him constantly James, although he doubted Q knew that he also shared a similar need. He was sure that he was going to dream of the almost naked Q that night, his slender fingers scratching him behind his ears as he was sure he did with the cat, placing little kisses on his ears and nose.

 

He spent the rest of the days leading up to Q’s birthday not in his personal space, but in almost every shelter and pet shop in and around London. He had hoped to find just the right kitten for him, but none really tugged at his heart strings. Yes, they had all been cute and more than lovable, but nothing clicked when he looked at them.

 

James only gave up on the whole idea on the day of the party and quickly bought a stuffed yellow cat which he shoved in the backseat, on top of the gift he had already bought. And just as he started the car, something jumped on his windshield and let out the loudest mewl he had head in his life, pawing at his wiper.

 

“Well, aren’t you a little miracle?” He muttered, smiling softly as the small black ball of fur with large green eyes rushed to rub his face against his hand. “All you need is a little bow around your neck and you’ll be perfect.”

 

The kitty ended up wearing James’ dark blue bowtie around his head and had managed to snuggle against his chest and fall asleep there, claws stuck in his shirt just in case he thought about removing him. It – and James realized that he should have checked to see if it was a male or female, but Q could discover that on his own – did wake up when James entered the rented restaurant, intrigued by the noise and enticed by the smell of food.

 

For some strange reason, everyone that saw them paled and R outright dropped her glass of champagne. She started to walk towards him, but James had spotted Q in the crowd and he just couldn’t wait to show him his gifts. He easily dodged waiters and stepped around other people, grabbing Q’s hand and startling him a little.

 

“Christ, Bond. Can you please have mercy on my heart—“ The cat poked his head out of James’ jacket right at that moment and blinked, trying to get a good sniff of Q. “I take this as a definitive no.”

 

Not understanding why Q had taken a step back, hands clasped together and pushed against his breastbone, James grabbed the mewling mess and held it closer to him. “Found it on the street right before I got here. I now know that it is actually a he and I thought he could make you feel better.”

 

Q didn’t gather the cat in his arms and pushed his face against him, like James had anticipated. Instead, the man took two steps back, bumping into someone before muttering an apology and disappearing in the crowd.

 

By then R had caught up with James and she did not look happy at all. “Tell me, did they perform some kind of weird operation on you during your last mission in which they removed your brain?” She hissed in his ear, digging her manicured nails in his arm to the point of drawing blood. “Why the bloody hells are you showing a cat down his throat not even a week after James died?”

 

The cat had jumped on James’ shoulder, nails dug deep so he wouldn’t fall off, ears flat against his head and tail puffy as he hissed at R. At least one creature appeared to be on his side in the room, although it couldn’t talk to Q and explain his good intentions.

 

“I simply thought that a new one would make him feel better,” James said honestly.

 

R groaned and rolled her eyes, letting go of him just so she could rest her face in her hands. “I cannot believe this, Bond. Look, just because you have no problems instantly finding someone else doesn’t mean that the rest of us can do that.”

 

“I wanted to do something nice for him.” James grabbed the cat just as it jumped off his shoulder, basically saving R from ending the night with a scratched face. “How was I supposed to know that this was going to make him sad again?”

 

“I don’t know, by using your brain? By googling to see if that was an acceptable thing? By talking to me before doing this?” R had raised her voice a tad and people were starting to stare, so she pulled James outside. “Look, nice gesture and all, but it’s too soon.”

 

One of Q’s nameless minions snuck out and whispered something in R’s ear, face filling with realization when he caught a glimpse of the cat from James’ hands. R nodded to whatever the man had said and turned on her heel and left after that, mentioning that she had to cover for Q until he pieced himself back together enough to attend his own party.

 

It was amazing how easily James managed to make himself the single, most hated person in the entire universe. Even when he tried to fix the things he had ruined, he only managed to make them worse. Now what was he supposed to do? The cat was still mewling, probably hungry, and his hand was also wet.

 

“At least it wasn’t over my suit.” He snorted when the cat tilted his tiny head to the side, getting distracted by the bowtie around its neck and starting to chew on it. “Q would have scratched you behind your ears for what you just did, you little bag of fleas.”

 

The bathroom was easy to find and James placed his little companion in a sink, forgetting that cats loved to explore and had the uncanny ability to disappear in the blink of an eye. So when he finished washing his hands and turned around to pick him up and stuff him in his shirt again, he found an empty sink.

 

“Bloody hell, you’re turning out to be a lot of trouble,” he grumbled under his breath and started to look around the bathroom, thankful that the door had been closed. “Come on here, you fur ball and I promise that I won’t toss you out the instant I get home.”

 

He had gotten so frustrated with everything that, by the time he got to the last stall, he was kicking doors open with little concern that he might send one flying off its hinges and be forced to pay for it. Hell, he had nothing better to do with his money than buy suits, alcohol and cars. How expensive could a door be?

 

“I can’t help but wonder if you can take care of anything in general,” Q’s soft voice drifted from behind the last stall, James stopping just in time. “You’ve proven countless times that you are rubbish with gadgets, horrible when it comes to your own self, not quite good when other people are involved and right now, I have a shaking cat snuggled in my chest, claws ruining the only decent suit I actually own.”

 

James was on his knees and sticking his head under the door in a flash. Q’s eyes were slightly red and James wanted to kick himself for being the one to have made them that way. For a second time in less than a week and on Q’s birthday.

 

“I’ll get you another one if it happens. And no, I am afraid I need quite a bit of help in all of those departments.”

 

Q snorted and the cat finally started to purr, trying to roll on his back and stretch. “I am afraid I cannot let you hold on to this little guy if that’s the case, nor am I too pleased with the prospect of you sticking him in a shelter.”

 

When Q smiled, James felt like he was the ruler of the universe. So what if he was on his stomach in the middle of the bathroom, people clearly backing away when they saw that? Q was smiling. So what if the cat was now on his head and he felt a button on his jacket somehow managing to pop off? Q was laughing. And when Q placed his hands on his shoulders and started to gently push him out, James felt warm and fuzzy.

 

“How have you survived for so long in the field if you pull stunts even half as stupid as this one?” Q wondered as he continued to snuggle the cat, James washing his hands and face.

 

“For once, I have a lot of luck. But most importantly, I have a great handler who manages to save me even from the direst situation.” He winked in the mirror at Q. “I take it that the cat is now yours?”

 

Q nodded, smiling softly. “I might be tempted to also take an old man home just to be sure that he won’t get stuck in a chair, but I am sure he’ll fine a beautiful woman to—“

 

“No I won’t.” He placed his hand on Q’s lower back, gently guiding him towards the door. “I am afraid that no man or woman on this earth could keep me out of trouble and in one piece quite as good as you. So I am afraid you’re stuck with me.”

 

It was a bold move and James wasn’t 100% sure that Q had meant to imply what he had understood, but it was still worth a shot. But Q hadn’t moved away from, nor did he seem too bothered by James’ hand that had moved a tiny bit lower, the tips of his fingers brushing against his backside.

 

“At most, you’ll see the sofa tonight, so if you hoped for anything more, I am afraid that you will be disappointed.” He opened the door and moved closer to James so they could both fit through it, tilting his head back slightly. “Only one James that I got stuck with got to sleep in my bed from the first night.”

 

James hummed and brushed their lips together, to see if it was an invitation or not. But Q’s eyes fluttered closed – and how adorable that the man was starting to prove that he was a secret romantic at heart – so James complied and started to kiss him.

 

It was a careful kiss despite James’ need to simply push Q back into the bathroom, rip the suit off of him and cover him in bite marks while making him shiver and moan in pure pleasure under him. This wasn’t one of his usual, sordid and rushed encounters, Q deserving much more than that.

 

They took their time exploring each other’s mouths, revelling in the way they tasted and felt, only breaking away when the need for air got too big. Q swayed on his feet and James moved to place both of his hands on his hips to be sure that he wouldn’t fall, his lips puffy and red. It was just the way James had pictured them to be and he promised himself that he’ll add the chewed look on them pretty soon.

 

He moved in for another kiss, but the cat in Q’s arms had other ideas, letting out a powerful mewl as if he was chastising the both of them for forgetting about him. James glared at him and the cat glared back, Q chuckling and turning slightly to the side to protect the little fellow from James’ slightly murderous eyes.

 

“I am only going to say this once, James.” He giggled when the man started to nuzzle his neck, tilting his head to the side to give him more access. “And you will find out that I am not easily distracted from whatever task I have in mind.”

 

“Oh, trust me that I will do my best to see what needs to be done to make you forget anything but me.” He bit down on Q’s neck, suckling lightly just to be sure that he’d leave behind a mark for all to see.

 

“Well, aren’t we possessive? You will share me with the cat,” and here he moved just out of James’ reach, pushing his hand lightly against his lips, “and if anything happens to him and you are even slightly remotely connected to it, I will drop a satellite on you.”

 

James took Q’s hand and kissed his wrist, rubbing his face lightly against it. “I thought you said that you’d never kill me on a mission.”

 

Q grinned, focusing on the still mewling kitten in his other hand, kissing his ear. “You won’t be on a mission when disaster strikes.” He let James tug him back in his arms, sighing and resting his head on his chest when the man wrapped his arms around him. “I think I am starting to understand why your targets love to snuggle against you.”

 

“Just wait until I show you why they’re reluctant to let me get out of their bed. I promise I’ll make you want to retire with me and never leave my side.” He leaned down to kiss Q’s ear, maybe even nibble on it, but ended up with a mouth full of black cat.

 

Q snorted and walked away, James still trying to get all the hair out of his mouth. “Are you sure you can keep up with me, old man? I mean, you already have a pretty horrible eyesight if you mix me up with a cat.”

 

James managed to catch up with Q just as he was entering the main room, sneaking his arm around the middle and resting his lips right against his ear. “Well, you do resemble a cat more times than not, what with your hair being a lovable mess that just begs people to bury their fingers in it. Or tug on it during other, more interesting actions.”

 

Q shivered and almost dropped the cat so James took it and stuffed it back in his jacket, both men waiting for the animal to find his spot before getting lost in the crowd. People were surprised to see them so close, Bill tried to be subtle in giving Eve a wad of cash and M simply turned pale, clutching his heart. Figures their first victim as a couple would be their own boss.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love
> 
> PS: If you have a friend who recently lost an animal, do not get them a new one without consulting them first. Some get so attached that they cannot get a new one.


End file.
